


Hidden Talents

by horror_business



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Mickey puts on a show, PWP, Porn Without Plot, in more ways than one ;] ;], uuuuh......yeah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 06:40:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11915292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/horror_business/pseuds/horror_business
Summary: The one where it's seven in the goddamn morning and Ian is demanding a lap dance when Mickey is just trying to eat his fucking cereal.





	Hidden Talents

**Author's Note:**

> Hi. I don't know what this is.............I just wanted to write a simple lap dancing fic and it spiraled in true Me fashion.  
> enjoy!

Ian walked in the front door, immediately dropping his overnight bag down at his side as he shrugged his jacket off, dropping the thing before he slumped against the door. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he closed his eyes and rested his head against the wood behind him. The exhaustion from working a double shift had settled deep into his bones, all his muscles and joints aching in protest from having to hold his body up for so long, his brain screaming to take a rest from having to fucking think.  
  
He loved working as an EMT, he really did, but the long hours and the brutal emotional toll it took on him was sometimes too much to handle. Even now, three years in, he had to stop and think quite frequently about if it was really worth it.  
  
In the end, he always decided that yes, yes it was worth it and he just needed to stop being a little fucking bitch and suck it up. He was born for this.  
  
He twisted the deadbolt closed behind him before heaving himself away from the door and deeper into the apartment he shared with Mickey. It was early, barely 7am on Mickey’s day off and Ian was delighted about the idea of sleeping the entire day away with Mickey curled up in his arms under their new soft as fuck comforter.  
  
So he was a little disappointed to see his boyfriend standing in the kitchen in front of the sink, staring out the window at the budding sunrise as he happily scarfed down a bowl of cereal. Ian was hoping to slink into bed and wake Mickey up with some well placed kisses and roaming hands but apparently that plan was just shot to shit.  
  
His disappointment instantly evaporated when he finished soaking in Mickey’s body, his eyes travelling up and down twice to get the full fucking picture. Mickey always looked good, fucking _always_ , but Ian’s favorite form of Mickey in the whole wide world (besides naked and moaning underneath him) was probably when he just wakes up. His skin _looks_ soft, his hair fucking rumpled and sticking up in all different directions, that soft dreamy look still on his face.  
  
And those boxer briefs bunched up right underneath his ass.     
  
Mickey recently went clothes shopping, grabbing a few essentials since his old ones were getting too thin and ripped to even be considered clothing and Ian was very, _very_ pleased with the underwear his boyfriend picked out. Mickey finally made the switch from boxers to briefs like any fucking self respecting gay man should and his ass had never looked better. Fucking encased in the tight cotton, accentuating it’s thick roundness, it’s juicy jiggle. Ian found himself even more obsessed with that ass than he was to begin with.  
  
It didn’t help his boner one bit to see that the pattern Mickey was wearing this morning was camo, his tank top black and tight, and every single one of Ian’s military fantasies he used to jerk off too came flooding back instantly with a vengeance. It wasn’t just the trolls at the club that got off on the General Patton fantasy and seeing Mickey like that...Jesus.  
  
All his exhaustion and tired aching melted away, a barely restrained growl rumbling in his throat as he walked into the kitchen, making sure he made some noise so he didn’t completely startle his very jumpy boyfriend.  
  
He stood behind Mickey, one hand resting on his hip while the other grabbed onto his ass, gripping the cheek hard in his hand as he kissed the side of Mickey’s head, digging his nose into that soft black hair behind his ear. Ian could see Mickey’s tired smirk sliding across his face out of the corner of his eye, trying to be coy and ignore Ian as he dipped his spoon into the cereal again, raising the utensil to his mouth and chewing loudly.  
  
“Good morning,” he said around his mouthful of milk and sugar coated cereal.  
  
“Hmm, I’d say,” Ian replied deeply, pushing closer to Mickey so he could definitely feel Ian’s semi hard dick rubbing against his ass.  
  
Mickey laughed a little, taking another not so graceful bite of his breakfast, some of the milk dribbling down his chin briefly before he wiped it away with the back of his hand. “What’s got you so riled up this morning?” he asked, muffled from the food in his mouth.  
  
Ian had just attached his lips to the back of Mickey’s neck before he asked, obscenely using his tongue and lips on the soft warm skin, humming lowly every few seconds and taking advantage of his grip on Mickey’s hip to pull him back against him in slow, rhythmic rolls.  
  
“If you could see your ass in these briefs you wouldn’t even be asking that fucking question,” Ian replied, squeezing said ass quickly before trailing around to wrap his arm around Mickey’s midsection, his hand slipping underneath the tank top to rub against the pillow soft skin.  
  
“Put the fucking bowl down,” he demanded, breathing hotly into Mickey’s ear.  
  
Mickey chuckled but did as he was told, taking one more quick bite out of the bowl before placing it into the sink in front of him. As soon as Ian heard the ceramic hit the stainless steel, he spun Mickey around and pushed him up against the counter, capturing his lips in a biting kiss that was way too fast and brutal for Mickey’s still sleep laden body to keep up with. He tasted like fucking fruit loops and milk, but Ian didn’t care.  
  
Ian’s hands roamed everywhere; Mickey’s ribs, his chest, his back, his shoulders, until he finally settled on his ass again, taking two strong handfuls worth and dragging Mickey flush against him again. Mickey’s hand ran through Ian’s hair, landing on the back of his neck and gripping tightly as he groaned into his mouth, rolling his hips against Ian in a languid motion. Slow, so slow and steady, the exact opposite of the way their mouths were moving.  
  
Ian’s nails scratched against the cotton hugging Mickey’s ass, digging his fingers into the covered flesh as he moaned loud into Mickey’s mouth, Mickey whimpering slightly from the sting. Ian abandoned one cheek, dragging his hand down Mickey’s thick fucking thigh and pulling it up, encouraging Mickey to prop it against his hip.  
  
Ian hummed when Mickey complied, the cotton of his boxers tugging against his ass a little tighter. He bit down on Mickey’s bottom lip, pulling it out a little before backing away from his mouth completely, Mickey chasing after his lips. Ian looked at his partner's face, flushed and still soft from sleep and smiled a small pleased smile.  
  
“You remember my birthday?” he asked, his voice dark and breathy. Mickey bit his lip, nodding his head as he slowly dragged his eyes open, heavy lidded and lust blown. Fuck. _Fuck_ he was so beautiful.  
  
“Remember what you told me when we were at the Alibi? That gift I’ve always wanted but you still haven’t given me?”  
  
Mickey shook his head no, but the blush slowing creeping up his neck was a dead fucking giveaway. Who knew Mickey Milkovich was a blusher? You would think nothing would embarrass him in front of Ian anymore.  
  
“You told me,” Ian growled, rolling his hips against Mickey again, “that I had one free lap dance. I’m calling in that present. Right now.”  
  
Mickey groaned in annoyance, his head falling back as he squeezed his eyes shut. “Ian, no. Come on,” he said with a grimace before leveling his head and staring at Ian again. “Let’s just fuck instead baby, come on,” he continued, his voice dropping a few octaves as he started rubbing the bulge in Ian’s pants.  
  
Ian choked down his gasp, shaking his head no. He wasn’t going to be persuaded with the use of the word “baby”. Mickey knew what that word did to him, only used it when he wanted something and god damn if it didn’t work every fucking time. That fucker.  
  
Not this morning though, no fucking way. Ian knew what he wanted, and he wanted that thick, juicy ass fucking dancing on his lap and rubbing against his dick. He wanted Mickey to tease him, to ride him, to grind against him through the thin barrier of his pants while giving him the bedroom eyes and biting his full fucking lips. Jesus. He deserved this after working that double.  
  
“Maybe later, but you’re doing this,” Ian said before pulling away from Mickey entirely and walking over to the kitchen table. He pulled the chair out and sat down, legs spread as he looked down at his phone, scrolling through Spotify for a good song that Mickey could dance to.  
  
He found the most stereotypical lap dancing song, one that would definitely make Mickey shake his ass. He turned the volume up as high as it would go before he placed the phone on the table and looked at Mickey with raised eyebrows.  
  
Mickey was rubbing his forehead, shaking his head in disbelief. “Ian, come on, not right now. It’s fuckin’ 7 in the morning,” Mickey whined.  
  
Ian pursed his lips and shook his head, looking down as he unbuttoned his work shirt, the blue fabric falling open to reveal the plain white tank top underneath. “You’re doing it, and you’re gonna put some heart into it or else it won’t count,” he said.  
  
Mickey sighed heavily, his shoulders dropping as he accepted his fate. He walked closer, slowly, his feet sliding silently along the linoleum until he was standing in front of him. Ian could see how embarrassed and nervous Mickey really was, putting on shows wasn’t really his thing. Ian frowned, reaching up to grab onto his boyfriend’s hips, pulling him closer just a little bit, his thumb rubbing back and forth against the fabric of his tank top.  
  
“Hey,” he said softly, waiting to continue until Mickey looked at him, “it’s just me, okay? You know what to do, I’ve given you plenty of lap dances and you always ride my dick so good baby, I know you know how to work those hips,” he said with a smile. Mickey shook his head, snorting a little as he tried to hold back a laugh.  
  
Ian grinned, squeezing Mickey’s hips before he let go, smacking Mickey’s ass for good measure before he sat back in the chair, spreading his legs wide and wiggling a little to get comfortable. “Let’s go, I ain’t getting any younger.”  
  
Mickey huffed out a small, aggravated breath, but did as he was told. He shook his arms out a little before he walked closer to Ian, straddling his lap but holding himself up, not sitting completely flush against him. He placed his hands on the back of the chair, his fingers curling around the wood. He closed his eyes, trying to get comfortable and settle into the mood, cracking his neck and shoulders.  
  
Ian was patient, a word that was usually never applied to him, and just stared up at Mickey while he gave himself a silent pep talk, the song still droning on in the background.  
  
Mickey cleared his throat, looking down at Ian with bright blue eyes. “So, you come here often?” he said, voice wavering slightly in his insecurity, his cheeks still a little pink.  
  
Ian barked out a quick laugh. He grabbed onto Mickey’s ass with one hand, squeezing tightly. “Oh, I come here _very_ often,” he said with an open mouthed smirk.  
  
Mickey returned his grin, his face and body loosening as his embarrassment slowly slipped away. “Aye, no touching the fuckin’ goods,” he said firmly before reaching around to grab Ian’s wrist and rip his hand away from his ass.  
  
Ian groaned a little, not in frustration from being denied the right to touch that glorious ass, but from excitement because suddenly Mickey’s whole fucking mood changed. The look on his face morphed from apprehensive and self conscious to dark and flirty and it was so goddamn sexy. Mickey stood up from the chair quickly, his beautiful eyes burning into Ian’s with such a strong intensity he had to hold back a whimper.  
  
Okay, fuck. This was happening, this was really fucking happening.  
  
Mickey walked behind the chair, his U-UP hand lightly dragging across Ian’s chest and shoulders the whole time. He leaned down, both his hands now rubbing and massaging into Ian’s tense shoulders as he whispered into Ian’s ear.  
  
“I’m gonna rock your fucking world, Gallagher,” he said before biting down on Ian’s earlobe. Ian moaned, his fingers curling around the seat of the chair in a white knuckled grip. Confidence was the sexiest thing that Mickey wore, it got Ian harder than the goddamn camo underwear and he was certain that this lap dance was going to fucking kill him. Especially if Mickey was this fucking confident about it.    
  
Mickey walked back around the chair, swinging one leg over Ian and straddling his thigh, his body moving in slow, rhythmic rolls to the beat of the music. Ian’s eyes scanned down his body, starting on his boyfriend’s face, then trailing down his bulging biceps, across his chest, down his stomach before his eyes landed on those strong thighs and fucking amazing hips rocking back and forth on top of him, his dick standing at attention in the camo.  
  
Ian moaned, looking back up at Mickey’s smug face as he rolled his hips a little harder, bringing one hand up to run through his ruffled hair and down his neck, his lips pursed as he silently mouthed the words to the song. Mickey’s knee was pressed right up against Ian’s dick, lightly brushing it with each thrust forward and Ian had to force himself to bite back a moan each time it made contact.  
  
Mickey stood up again, putting some distance between them, his legs spread a bit as he reached behind him with one hand to pull his shirt over his head, bunching the material up in his hand and running it down his newly exposed chest, holding it over his dick as he continued to roll and thrust his hips to the music. That sexy confidence was evident in every fucking move, breaking his rhythm for a moment to just thrust his hips against the shirt.  
  
“How...what…” Ian started, his mouth dry from being permanently open as he sucked in deep breath’s, licking his dry lips.  
  
Where the fuck did Mickey learn this? Ian expected him to fumble a bit, be a little clumsy and awkward. He was anything but. His body moved naturally, like he was the one that did this for a fucking living once upon a time instead of Ian. Mickey would have made thousands working at the club, easy. Looking like he does, fucking moving like that. Jesus. It was easily the hottest thing Ian’s ever seen.  
  
Mickey grinned that lopsided grin before he threw his shirt to the side and turned around, looking over his shoulder at Ian as his body continued to roll and undulate perfectly to the beat. He had both hands resting on his head, his biceps fucking bulging as he flexed, his back muscles moving beautifully under the skin. His ass looked even better than it did before, his briefs riding up a little more with his movements and hugging his ass fucking tighter.  
  
Ian was too busy staring at that ass to notice Mickey’s hands moving, his thumbs now hooked into the band of the boxers, pulling them down the smallest amount, the top of his ass popping into view. Ian sucked in a sharp breath, his fingers burning to touch him. He was pretty sure he was drooling.  
  
Mickey decided right then was a perfect time to bend the fuck over and wiggle his ass in Ian’s face, the perfect globes jiggling back and forth, his ass bouncing to the beat. Ian could hear him grunting lowly as he moved, exerting himself for the sake of putting on an amazing show.  
  
Okay first the dancing and now the twerking? Is this what his boyfriend fucking did when he was out working doubles? Ian knew that Mickey knew how to work that ass, had experienced it first hand plenty of times, but this was on a different fucking level.  
  
Mickey stood back up, his back arching beautifully in the process, his hands running up his legs and thighs and running all the way up his stomach and chest. He turned around again, licking his lips as he looked at Ian with heavy lidded eyes. Ian had so many things he wanted to say, so many fucking questions and demands because how dare Mickey keep this talent to himself for so long?  
  
Mickey closed the short distance between them, bending at the waist and placing his hands on Ian’s thighs as he brought himself eye level with him, his body still rolling and moving to the song.  
  
“How you doin’ over here, tough guy?” he asked, his nails scratching the inside of Ian’s thighs over the coarse material of his pants, biting down on his lip as he waited for an answer.  
  
“Am I fucking dreaming? What is happening right now?” Ian asked, dazed.  
  
Mickey smirked, squeezing Ian’s thighs before he pushed them open quickly so he was spread even wider than before. “Giving you your birthday present, thought that was obvious,” Mickey said before he straddled Ian completely, his hands moving to rest against the back of the chair.  
  
Mickey continued rolling his hips and stomach to the beat, but started switching from fast and up tempo, to slow and rhythmic every few moments. Mickey was just kind of just fucking grinding on Ian at this point, his ass fully planted onto Ian’s dick, rubbing back and forth and back and forth, his breathing picking up speed.  
  
Ian tried, he really did, but he couldn’t help himself. His hands unclenched from the bottom of the chair and landed onto Mickey’s hips, rubbing his palms reverently all over Mickey’s back before settling lightly on his ribs, squeezing tightly.  
  
“What’d I say ‘bout touching?” Mickey said. Ian could tell he was trying to be strong and authoritative, but the waver in his voice and the look in his eyes was noticeable to Ian. Mickey was losing it just as much as he was.  
  
Ian licked his lips. “Can’t help myself,” he responded breathily.  
  
Mickey gave a shaky little laugh, his eyes fluttering as he started to just circle his hips on Ian’s lap instead of rolling them, still moving to the beat of the music though, and Ian was losing his goddamn mind. He felt like he couldn’t see straight, everything fuzzy and hazy as he got more and more riled up from his boyfriend fucking humping him on their kitchen chair.  
  
Ian hummed, his eyes stuck watching Mickey’s hips moving on top of him; those fucking grabable and thick and fucking camo clad hips. Fuck. His eyes snapped back up to Mickey’s when he heard a little choked whine escape his throat, a smug grin sliding over Ian’s face before he pounced.  
  
He lurched up and attached his lips to Mickey’s neck, biting and sucking and being none too gentle. His hands abandoned Mickey’s ribs and grabbed two firm handfuls of that beautiful ass that was bouncing inches away from his face moments ago, gripping hard as he helped Mickey along and pushed him back and forth. Back and fucking forth.  
  
Mickey sighed loud, his hands leaving the back of the chair and grabbing onto Ian, one hand digging into his red curls as the other gripped onto his shoulder tightly without breaking the cadence of his hips.  
  
Ian growled, marking Mickey’s neck up fucking good as he dragged his boyfriend closer to him, resting chest to chest as Mickey still fucking grinded on his dick. Ian went lower and lower, sucking and licking and biting at all the delicious skin that he could reach on Mickey’s neck and chest, the sensitive skin slightly salty with the taste of sweat.  
  
“Mickey,” he whispered, barely removing his lips from the base of Mickey’s throat, his voice vibrating against the skin.  
  
Mickey didn’t say anything. In fact, Ian wasn’t even sure Mickey heard him at all. He had his head thrown back, eyes shut as he got lost in fucking everything, his hips taking on a life of their own, continuing to gyrate on Ian’s lap, small moans slipping out of Mickey’s beautiful fucking lips every so often.  
  
“Mickey,” he said again, a little louder, nipping at the cord of his throat.  
  
“Yeah,” Mickey said with a sigh, his hand digging deeper into Ian’s hair as his thighs trembled.  
  
Ian moaned after a particularly well placed roll of Mickey’s hips and started moving away from his neck, trailing his tongue along his delicate jawline until he got to his ear. “I wanna fuck you baby, have you ride me just like this, just like you’ve been doing but with my cock buried in your ass. You look so fucking good, I want you so bad,” he whispered huskily.  
  
Mickey released a shaky whine before he yanked on Ian’s hair sharply, pulling his head back and away from his neck. Mickey crashed his lips against Ian’s, swallowing down Ian’s moan and immediately slipping his tongue into his mouth, wasting no time. Ian pushed back, their tongues sliding with a practiced ease, lips smacking together obscenely.  
  
Another thing Mickey was fucking amazing at; making out. The things he could do with his tongue should be fucking illegal. Ian’s boyfriend was a motherfucking sex god. Ian could hold his own in the sack but Jesus Christ, sex with Mickey was _the_ best sex and Ian was the only one who got it, the only fucking one.  
  
He slapped Mickey’s ass, moaning into his mouth at the sharp sound that reverberated around their small kitchen. He couldn’t wait anymore, he fucking couldn’t. He wrapped his arms around Mickey’s waist tightly and stood up from the chair. Mickey didn’t miss a beat, wrapping his legs around Ian’s hips and hooking his ankles together behind his back. Mickey abandoned Ian’s lips and started in on his neck, sucking fucking hard enough for Ian to feel his pulse jump.  
  
He carried his boyfriend through their apartment and to the bedroom as quickly as he could without falling over. Once he got there (their apartment was a small as shit anyway) he placed Mickey on the edge of the mattress, bending over and capturing Mickey’s lips again in a kiss. Mickey hummed and reciprocated with vigor, his hands reaching up to fumble with the buckle or Ian’s belt, his eagerness making his movements sloppy as he huffed deep breaths through his nose.  
  
Ian shimmied out of his already unbuttoned work shirt while Mickey worked on his pants, their lips never disconnecting even as their movements got more and more frantic. Mickey eventually got Ian’s pants undone and wasted no time in pulling them down his thighs, bringing his boxers down with it. Ian stepped out of his clothing, kicking them to the side as he pulled back from Mickey’s lips, standing up to pull off his tank top.  
  
Mickey took the opportunity to start mouthing at Ian’s hipbone, dragging his tongue down the sharp cut of it as he grabbed onto the base of Ian’s dick, jerking him a few times while he worked on sucking a hickey into Ian’s freckled flesh. Ian’s stomach clenched up, his eyes closing as Mickey wrapped his beautiful fucking lips around the head of his dick, rolling his tongue as he sucked lightly.  
  
“Jesus,” Ian breathed out, tilting his head back, running his hand through Mickey’s hair and resting on the back of his head, his fingers absently playing with the short strands.  
  
Mickey went lower, sucking Ian off with enthusiasm now, his hand rubbing what he tragically couldn’t fit in his mouth that morning. He’s done it before, but fuck he has to work up to it and Ian doesn’t have the patience right now. He allowed himself to indulge for a while, his heart beating wildly in his chest as he grunted and huffed in pleasure from the ministrations on his dick. He is so goddamn hard from that performance in the kitchen he needed some relief even if it was just for a minute.  
  
He dragged his eyes open and looked down at Mickey, those blue eyes blown the fuck out and staring up at him in want. Ian moaned and pulled on Mickey’s hair a little harder. Fuck, fuck that was one of his favorite sights, Mickey staring up at him with his mouth full of cock. Ian could come right now from that sight alone.  
  
That’s not how he wants to come though, not right now. Maybe later. He curled his fingers into Mickey’s hair tighter to hold him and place and pulled his hips back, his dick falling from Mickey’s mouth. Mickey whined a bit, tried to chase Ian’s dick with his lips, but Ian held steadfast onto those black locks.  
  
“Lay on the bed. Now,” Ian said, his voice dark and raspy, the tone leaving absolutely no room for argument.  
  
Mickey looked disoriented for a moment, but did as he was told as quickly as possible, dropping Ian’s dick from his hand and pushing himself backwards up towards the pillows, divesting himself of those glorious camo briefs on the way. Ian walked over to the bedside table, pulling out their favorite lube before walking towards the end of the bed. Not crawling onto it, not plastering himself to Mickey’s body like he wanted to, just standing at the foot of the bed, watching his boyfriend lazily play with his own dick, his mouth slightly parted as he stared at Ian.  
  
Ian squirted some lube into his palm before clicking the bottle shut and throwing it at Mickey, who caught it with ease. He wrapped his lubed up hand around his cock, stroking it in one long pull, moaning fucking loud, his eyes never leaving Mickey’s.  
  
“Get ready for me,” he demanded. Mickey’s been putting on a show for Ian all morning, why stop at the lap dance?

The grin that spread over Mickey’s face was down right fucking sinful, his eyes dark and hooded as he smirked evilly at Ian. He grabbed a random pillow and shoved it under his back, wiggling around a bit to get comfortable before he started.  
  
He clicked the bottle open, bending his knees and placing his feet flat on the mattress, giving Ian the perfect fucking view of that amazing ass. He squirted some lube on his fingers, rubbing them together to make sure it was distributed evenly before he started.  
  
Then he reached down with one finger, dragging it over his dick and balls a few times until he got to his hole, circling around and around, teasing himself and Ian in the process. He slowly pushed his finger inside, groaning a bit and finally closing his eyes, breaking eye contact with Ian while his back bowed a bit.  
  
Ian was in heaven. Or, well, something neighboring heaven maybe, he doubts this type of activity would be allowed in heaven proper. He kept stroking himself, trying to time his pumps to the pace at which Mickey was fingering himself, trying not to get carried away.  
  
But Mickey was getting carried away too, the speed at which he was thrusting that one finger in and out of himself was speeding up with every few passes. He slipped a second finger in on the next pass, hissing a bit through his teeth. If there’s one thing Ian knew with absolute certainty when it came to their sex life was that Mickey was notoriously impatient with this process, sometimes pushing himself before he was ready, eager to get to the main event. Ian wanted him to take his time though, he wanted to enjoy the fucking show like a perv and watch his boyfriend open himself up for _him_ .  
  
“Slow down,” he said, cupping his dick and balls in his palm, squeezing himself a bit.  
  
Mickey groaned but did as he was told, finally looking at Ian again as he pushed those two fingers in as deep as they could go on a hard thrust, buried down to the knuckle. “Jesus Christ,” he whispered, biting onto his bottom lip.  
  
“Gonna need more lube than that,” Ian said, his voice shredded as fuck as he nodded his chin towards Mickey’s ass.  
  
Mickey’s eyebrows shot up, a smirk spreading across his lips. “Oh yeah? Gonna fuck me hard, huh?” he asked, all fucking flirty and sexy as he thrust his fingers in again, spreading them wide and god fucking damn, Ian’s dick twitched in his hand.  
  
Mickey picked up the lube again, clicking it open and just squeezing it down his perineum where it gathered on his fingers. Ian could fucking hear the wet squelch as Mickey pushed in a third finger, moaning loud as he did so and disregarding Ian’s demand completely as he picked up the pace, fucking himself in earnest with his fingers.  
  
Ian moaned and went back to jerking on his cock, matching the pace of Mickey’s hand perfectly, his eyes glued to watching his partner’s movements. “Fuck, fuck Mickey, you’re so sexy,” he groaned out.  
  
Mickey huffed out a laugh that was cut short by a moan as he started rubbing against his prostate, his hips rotating a bit on top of his fist. His eyes slipped closed, his back bowing as he worked himself fucking good.  
  
“Shit. Shit Ian,” he whined and that was it, that was what broke Ian.  
  
He climbed onto the bed quickly, pulling Mickey’s hand unceremoniously from his ass before settling between his spread legs and leaning down and capturing his lips in a biting kiss. It was frantic and messy and at some points fucking painful from the biting. Mickey has always been a biter.  
  
Ian groaned openly into Mickey’s mouth as their dicks rubbed together, the movement fucking easy from all the lube. Ian reached down and shoved two fingers into Mickey’s ass, his boyfriend yelping in surprise before he melted into it, his hands coming up to frame Ian’s face.  
  
Ian fingered him for a bit as they made out, wanting to make sure that he was fully fucking stretched and ready. He’s horny as all fuck and ready to shove his cock in Mickey’s ass but he’s not a selfish prick.  
  
Well...at least not in the sack.  
  
But Mickey was ready, _he_ was fucking ready, so he pulled his fingers out only to replace them with his cock, barely giving Mickey any warning before he started pushing inside. He stopped the kiss, resting his forehead against Mickey as he looked deep into those blue eyes he loved so much. He fully planned on having Mickey ride him for the finale, but Christ, right now he needed some relief in the form of his boyfriend’s tight fucking ass.  
  
Mickey’s nails scratched at the back of Ian’s neck, his mouth hanging open in a silent moan, lips still grazing Ian’s as he panted into his mouth. Ian sunk all the way down the hilt, pausing for just a moment for Mickey to get used to it before he pulled out and pushed back in. Fucking hard. Hard enough to have Mickey almost biting down on own his tongue.  
  
He placed his forearms on the pillow next to Mickey’s head, caging him in and digging his hands into his hair as he started pounded into him, grunting with each thrust. Fuck, Mickey felt so goddamn good, so tight and wet, his body so open and pliable underneath him. Mickey’s legs were framed against Ian’s hips, squeezing every so often and making the angle fucking perfect so Ian could sink as deep as possible into Mickey with every goddamn thrust and he was losing his mind.  
  
“Fuck Mickey. Your ass feels better than it looks,” he said with a sigh, stopping for a second to just rut against Mickey, circling his hips around and around, loosening Mickey up a bit more before pulling out and going back to thrusting with vigor.  
  
Mickey smiled wide, real fucking wide, one of those rare smiles that were only reserved for Ian. “Your cock feels _exactly_ like it fuckin’ looks,” Mickey said with a smirk, choking down his laugh with a moan as he closed his eyes, head tilting back somewhat.  
  
Ian pushed the hair back that was falling down onto Mickey’s forehead, taking a moment to just stare, to admire his boyfriend’s face in all it’s wonder and beauty. Ian would never get tired of looking at Mickey, would never bore of those bright blue eyes, those plump pink lips and that spattering of freckles that Mickey vehemently denied having. Ian’s favorite fucking freckle was on the left side of Mickey’s top lip. Who had freckles on their lips? This fucking guy and Ian honed in on that little dot all the time.  
  
Mickey might not be everyone’s cup of tea, with his rough attitude and sharp edges and scowling face and threatening tattoos; but to Ian he was fucking perfect. And fuck those other people, they don’t know anything, anyway.  
  
It wasn’t part of his plan, it just happened. He started to slow down, rolling his hips into Mickey softly and reverently, getting wrapped up in his emotions and his love for the man keening underneath him.  
  
This happened every one out of three times they fucked and Ian wished he knew how to turn it off, knew how to stop his mind and heart from spiralling like this. Sometimes he just wanted to have rough fucking sex with his boyfriend without turning into a puddle of mush but his emotions were always ramped up to a hundred and eleven when he was buried balls deep in Mickey’s ass.  
  
Mickey wasn’t having it though. He was whining a bit, grabbing onto Ian’s hair, thrusting his ass back to make Ian’s now languid thrusts hit him the way he wanted, hard and deep.  
  
He sighed, kissing Mickey’s lips softly, slowing shit down even more, rubbing his hand against Mickey’s warm cheek. He pulled back a bit, just enough to mumble out, “I love you.”  
  
Mickey stopped grabbing at Ian’s hair, stopped thrusting back against his slow thrusts and just dragged Ian back in for a kiss, soft and lazy and fucking delicate. Delicate, a word that no one would use to describe this man unless they _actually_ knew Mickey, a word that Mickey would probably be pissed at them for using. But Mickey _was_ fucking soft, his hands gentle as fuck despite the threat imprinted on them. Delicate.  
  
Mickey pulled back from the kiss, biting down on Ian’s bottom lip, the pain sharp and quick and in stark contrast to the mood at the moment.  
  
“I love you, too. But don’t get sappy on me now, Gallagher, come on. Fuckin’ rail me,” Mickey said, slapping Ian on the ass fucking hard as he grinned, his tongue poking out to lick at his bottom lip.  
  
Ian shook his head to clear his mind, hoping all the sappy shit would leave for the time being; this wasn’t the session for that. “Right. Right, sorry,” he said.  
  
Ian grabbed onto Mickey’s wrists and pinned his hands down on the pillow next to his head, moving his hips back until just the head of his dick was pulling at the rim of Mickey’s hole. He thrusted into Mickey fucking hard and deep, just like he requested, doing this slowly a few times before he picked up the pace and started truly pounding into him again.  
  
Mickey gasped and arched his back, his mouth falling open as he groaned, nodding his head wildly. “Like that, like that,” he said breathlessly, his fingers curling into a fist, nails digging into his palm.  
  
Ian leaned down and bit at Mickey’s neck, hard, his teeth digging into his skin. He closed his lips around the marks, sucking intensely three times before laving it over with his tongue.  
  
Mickey hissed through his teeth, but made no move or noise to indicate he wanted the rough biting to end. Mickey was gonna be marked the fuck up by the time this was over, from bruises on his wrists and hips to hickey’s and bite marks scattered across his neck and chest. Mickey was fucking _his_ and everyone who looked at him would know it.  
  
He dragged his tongue over to another spot, a little lower and closer to where his shoulder met his neck, swirling his tongue around a bit before biting down again.  
  
Okay, so Mickey wasn’t the only one who liked to bite. It was fucking animalistic, the marking. Goddamn primal. Ian growled lowly in the back of his throat as he did it again.  
  
Ian was thrusting so hard into Mickey the headboard was smacking against the wall, a chorus of boom’s punctuating his actions and creating a great rhythm to match the moans and the yells. Mickey’s body was jolting with each thrust, pleased noises slipping past his lips uninhibited, his back arching like a bow. Ian was so thankful they finally had their own apartment, they would never be able to make noise like this living back at either of their families houses. The ridicule would be endless.  
  
Ian pulled back from Mickey’s neck, noting with pride that a fucking dentist would be able to tell who’s teeth marks those were. He squeezed Mickey’s wrists tightly before he prompted his boyfriend to look at him.  
  
And when he did Ian almost fucking came immediately. Mickey looked so dazed, so fucking lost in his lust and his pleasure that he probably wouldn’t even be able to tell you his own goddamn name and it was So. Fucking. Sexy. His eyes were heavy lidded and so blown out you could barely see any of that gorgeous blue, his lips bright red from where he had been gnawing on them, his face damp with sweat as another keening noise slipped out of his throat.  
  
“You ready, baby?” Ian asked, licking his own lips as he paused his thrusting again.  
  
Mickey took a second to answer, his ass clenching down around Ian’s dick like he was afraid he would pull out. “Ready-ready for what?” he asked.  
  
Ian grinned, all fucking dark and playful, releasing Mickey’s wrists while he pulled out, grabbing Mickey around his midsection and flipping their positions with ease so Mickey was on top, straddling his hips.  
  
Mickey still looked out of it, like he would topple over if Ian wasn’t holding him up, his breathing erratic as fuck. Ian pulled Mickey down for a kiss, rough and dirty, his tongue sweeping into Mickey’s mouth and that seemed to be the jolt Mickey needed.  
  
Without detaching his lips from Ian’s he reached back to grab onto his dick, pumping him a few times before placing the head to his hole. Mickey rubbed Ian’s dick back and forth a few times, sinking down until just the tip was inside him, then pulling Ian’s dick out again. Ian groaned in frustration into Mickey’s mouth, his nails raking down his back and settling onto his hips tightly. Mickey let out a deep and cocky laugh, apparently relishing in the control now.  
  
Ian pulled back and looked up at him, locking eyes and communicating everything they needed to communicate. Mickey sat up, resting his one hand against Ian’s chest to hold himself up and then he was sinking down fully onto Ian’s cock, sitting swiftly until Ian felt his asscheeks brush against the tops of his thighs. They both moaned simultaneously, Mickey rolling his hips like he did during his lap dance but this time with Ian’s dick in his ass.  
  
And it felt fucking glorious.  
  
Ian enjoyed the sensations for a moment, but then smacked Mickey on the ass, once, twice, gripping the soft muscle hard in his hands and pulling them apart. “Come on, show me with that ass can really do,” he said huskily.  
  
“You’re so fuckin’ demanding this morning man. Do this, do that. Shut the fuck up and fuckin’ fuck me,” Mickey said, his brow furrowing as he continued to just gyrate on Ian’s cock.  
  
Ian snarled before he thrust up into Mickey a few times, jabbing him hard, his cock dragging perfectly against Mickey’s prostate if the shocked little whimper he let out was any indication.  
  
Not one to be upstaged, Mickey took the bait just like Ian hoped he would and started riding Ian fiercely, bouncing up and down on Ian’s cock and grunting with the effort he was putting into fucking Ian with all he had.  
  
Mickey kept changing up the fucking pace, the fucking direction of his hips, kept fucking switching everything up unexpectedly and Ian’s head was swimming from all the sensations. Mickey always rode him fucking good, but he had stepped it up this morning, pulling out all his fucking tricks to get Ian’s vision to start blurring.  
  
Mickey rode him fucking beautifully for a couple of minutes, sweat dripping down his body as he exerted himself too much for this early in the morning. If he kept this up Ian was going to blow his load very, very fucking soon. Especially if Mickey kept making those goddamn noises.  
  
Mickey paused his movements shortly after that thought crossed Ian’s mind, like he was a fucking psychic, Ian’s cock still firmly wedged up his ass. He pinched one of Ian’s nipples harshly, twisting the nub between his fingers before both hands went up to curl around the top of the headboard. He shuffled around a little, bending his knees and planting his feet on the mattress and looking down at Ian with those goddamn flirty eyes.  
  
“Yeah?” Ian asked, with raised eyebrows a smile sliding across his face if Mickey meant what he thought he meant.  
  
Mickey lifted himself halfway off Ian’s dick, his thighs working overtime for sure this session, as he mimicked Ian’s actions and raised his own eyebrows. “Yeah,” he replied with a sigh.  
  
The moan that Ian let out was downright feral. He gripped Mickey’s ass in his hands, supporting some of his weight as he drove into him, his hips smacking against Mickey’s ass obscenely as he drilled into his boyfriend over and over and over.  
  
Mickey moaned loud, throwing his head back as he moaned out a mantra of “yes, yes, yes,” and Ian was going to come any fucking second.  
  
He smacked Mickey’s ass again, pulling his cheeks apart and thrusting into him faster and harder, Mickey’s thighs trembling above him. He fucking loved this, loved when Mickey would hold himself up and just let Ian plow into him. The angle was always perfect for both of them, Ian’s dick dragging against Mickey’s prostate and Ian could see everything from this position including his dick disappearing into Mickey over and over.  
  
“I’m gonna come, ‘m gonna come,” Ian said, his throat dry and scratchy as his back bowed, his balls drawing up tight as he tried to keep his eyes from screwing themselves shut. He didn’t want to miss the finale to the show.  
  
Ian continued to drive into Mickey as he came, a deep groan falling from his mouth, not slowing down the speed or pace of his thrusts at all, his hips jerking wildly into that ass that was milking him for all he was worth. Mickey moaned, licking his lips as his head fell back, his mouth open and gaping at the ceiling as Ian unloaded into his ass. It took Mickey fucking years to admit it, but he loved when Ian came deep in his ass, fucking buried that shit in there. His boyfriend was such a slut, Ian loved it.  
  
Ian started slowing down, much to Mickey’s chagrin, slowly pushing his cock in and out of Mickey. Mickey relented and pushed down all the way, resting flush against Ian again. He leaned back, his hands resting above Ian’s knees in a tight grip as he went back to gyrating on Ian’s softening cock, still managing to rub up against his prostate as he moved back and forth, circled around and around.  
  
Ian wiggled one hand out from underneath Mickey’s ass, licking his palm quickly before closing his fist around Mickey’s dick, jerking him off tightly and quickly. Mickey was close too, he just needed that little extra push.  
  
It didn’t take long. Soon, Mickey’s fingernails were biting fiercely into the skin of Ian’s knees as he whined, come spurting out of his dick and up against his stomach and Ian’s knuckles in hot streaks. Mickey continued to roll his hips lazily against Ian until he was completely spent, Ian squeezing and milking his dick for all it was worth, Mickey shivering from the sensations.  
  
Mickey pulled off after a couple of seconds, Ian’s dick falling from his ass limply, some of his come following with it. Mickey grinned down at Ian, his cheeks flushed, his face pleased as fuck. He leaned over, his hand coming up to gently cradle Ian’s cheek as he leaned in for a kiss, something soft and sweet to polish off that rough and heated fuck session.  
  
He rolled off of Ian a few short minutes later, huffing out a satisfied breath. They both lay on their backs, side by side, sweaty as all fuck, their breathing out of tune and slowing with each passing second as they both worked on coming down from their high. Ian gawked up at the ceiling, his eyes wide and glassy, running a hand through his hair as he let out a disbelieving little laugh.  
  
“Holy shit, Mickey. That was definitely in the top ten-” he paused, his face screwing up in contemplation, “-no, no, top fucking five. Jesus Christ,” he said with a sigh.  
  
Mickey barked out a laugh, a deep fucking belly laugh that sounded like music to Ian’s ears. It slowed petered out, ending with a content sigh of his own. He rolled over onto his side, propping his head up on his hand as he looked at Ian with a sleepy grin. Ian turned his head, staring right back with a matching smirk. He loved him so fucking much.  
  
All the adrenaline and energy he had just been depleted through his dick and the exhaustion from his double shift and what felt like a double round with Mickey had settled onto his chest again like a fucking brick. He let out a huge groan, turning his head to look back up the ceiling as he closed his eyes.  
  
“Mmm, goodnight,” he said with a yawn, fully intending to fall asleep right then and there, covered in come with his dick hanging out. He couldn’t stay awake for a fucking second longer.  
  
“No, no, come on. I was supposed to throw the sheets in the wash before heading to the store. Get your gangly ass up man,” Mickey complained, slapping Ian’s bicep.  
  
Ian hummed, smacking his lips together a few times. “Nope, can’t move.”  
  
“Too fucking bad. Get up,” Mickey demanded before he got off the bed, the mattress dipping and jostling a bit with his movements as he stood up. Ian could hear Mickey walking around, probably cleaning himself up and getting somewhat dressed before Ian heard the flick of a lighter followed by a deep satisfied inhale, the smell of burnt paper and tobacco filtering into his noise.  
  
Ian didn’t move, catatonic from that fuck session and the fatigue settled deep into every fiber of his body. He probably couldn’t move even if he wanted too.  
  
Mickey was not sympathetic to Ian’s plights though, intent on getting done with his chores as soon as possible. He started taking the sheets off the bed with Ian still laying on top of them, pulling them out from under him quickly and fiercely. He ripped the pillow out from underneath Ian’s head like a jerk, Ian groaning as his head bounced against the mattress a few times. Mickey then started tugging on the bottom sheet, rolling Ian’s limp body back and forth with the motions of pulling the corners up.  
  
“Move, shithead. I got shit to do. It’s my only day off and I know your lazy ass ain’t gonna wash these fuckin’ sheets. Go lay on the couch,” Mickey said, his words slightly muffled from the cigarette hanging from his lips.  
  
Ian heaved out a long suffering sigh, dragging it out for the dramatic’s while he rubbed his eyes with his fists. When he opened his eyes, he glared at Mickey like he had just suggested they slaughter their entire family before he heaved himself off the bed with maximum effort.  
  
Mickey pulled on his cigarette, shaking his head at the theatrics and bundled up the sheets before Ian had a chance to collapse back onto them. Ian wiped his chest and dick off with one of their discarded shirts, throwing it back onto the ground for Mickey to deal with before pulling on a fresh pair of boxers.  
  
He stumbled into the living room like he was drunk, face planting onto the couch and sighing in relaxation as he got the pillow to fit just right underneath his head. He floated on the precipice of sleep for a few minutes, acutely listening to Mickey scuttling around their apartment and throwing their shit into the washer.  
  
Mickey draped a blanket over Ian before he left. The last thing he heard was Mickey grumbling an affectionate “fucking asshole,” before closing the door to their apartment, the lock clicking into place from the outside.  
  
The low hum and rumbling of the washer brought Ian quickly to sleep, his face smushed into the couch pillow. Mickey would come home an hour later to find him with drool dried to his cheeks.

**Author's Note:**

> [(งツ)ว](damnnmilkovich.tumblr.com)
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> thanks for reading!! ♥


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